


A Mote In His Eye

by MonkeysInPants



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Mech Preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeysInPants/pseuds/MonkeysInPants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyclonus has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mote In His Eye

It must have happened when he had pulled Tailgate back from the brink of death, during the moment that Cyclonus's Great Sword had pierced his fading friend's chest and he had let the energy of his spark flow through it, lending some of his essence to one that deserved it so much more. In that moment of connection a grain of Tailgate's own spark, a mere fleck of his dwindling being, must have come free and rose against the current of energy to embed itself in Cyclonus's spark.

It should have been impossible. That the grain would part from Tailgate’s dying spark. That it find its place in his own. That it would be sustained instead of extinguished or absorbed. That it would survive his second visit to the Dead Universe. That it would grow. The chance of it happening was infinitesimal. That it had happened was miraculous.

Yet Cyclonus found himself strangely unsurprised when he’d discovered it, after he’d finally realized the odd flutter and tug he felt on his spark wasn’t merely that of emotion. In privacy he’d parted his chest and bared his core, and there he’d found it: a mote of light drifting in the corona of his spark. A point of brightness that made his spark’s own light look dim in comparison. It had taken long moments to understand, longer still to accept it, but he hadn’t been surprised. It had come from Tailgate, after all, and Tailgate was a miracle.

Cyclonus sat for a long time after his discovery, silent and alone in the dark of their shared room. He realized he had felt its presence since the moment it attached. What he'd taken for emotion and sentiment, that constant comforting sense of Tailgate's presence no matter how far apart they were, was actually physical. He'd quite literally been carrying a part of Tailgate with him, next to his spark.

He knew what the mote was, though he'd never taken the stories of them to be true until that moment. It was a joke amongst endura, that a love could be so fierce and powerful it could kindle a new life. That a pairing could be so blessed that Primus would grant a physical symbol of their love, a spark made from part of one and part of the other. And older still, there were songs. Grand tragedies where lovers were lost and yet a part of their conjunx or amica endura lived on in their spark so they could be reborn again. It was the grain of truth from which the council built their lie of spliced sparks and cold constructed bots.

It was a new life budded from an old, a legend become reality, and somehow it was Cyclonus who bore it. He didn't deserve the honour. Still, he would carry it, because it was precious and because it was Tailgate's.

He knew he should tell someone. He thought about doing so whenever he sat in the dark of their room with his plating parted and watched the little mote within him. He should tell Tailgate, share this precious miracle with the one he held most dear, who had put it there in the first place. He should inform Ratchet or First Aid, so that they might study the strange phenomenon and keep both host and bud safe and healthy as it gestated. He should tell the captains so that they might take it into account when assigning him duties.

But he was a warrior and his duty was to the living before those that might yet live. Being on the Lost Light was dangerous, after all, and Tailgate still needed protection. And the bud was yet small and insignificant. It grew, he had checked, but it was so very slowly that it might be decades before it was large enough to cause him trouble. Centuries before it matured, if it lived that long. And he had yet to find the words to tell Tailgate about their strange miracle, just as he was still unable to find the words to tell Tailgate just how important he had become to Cyclonus.

And most selfish of all, part of him simply wanted to keep it a secret. Part of him wanted it to never mature, so that he might keep it always. So that in the future to come, when Tailgate might grow bored of him or angry with him or finally give up on him or find someone better... When Tailgate might leave him behind, then he would still have of a piece of his light with him, a little bit of Tailgate kept close to his spark, forever.

But no, he had a duty to this budding life, and he would tell all of them eventually. Just... Not yet.

So when he heard the door to their room open as he sat in the dark, he quickly closed his chest plates to hide his secret away and turned to face the light in his life, of which the mote in his spark was only an echo.

"Hey Cyclonus! Rewind is running trivia night and the other team has Rung, so I need you to help me cover ancient history. Pleeeease?"

He says nothing in answer, but then he doesn’t need to. He simply gets up and follows Tailgate to the ends of the universe.


End file.
